Please don't question multi-week players

Chapter 334. The All-Knowing Eye (2)

"Creak...creak..."

A sticky swallowing sound came from behind the decaying chair, like rusty gears grinding over rotting flesh.

The silhouette queen knelt on the ground, her bony hands tearing at the shadow beneath her, which had been dismembered by a sharp axe.

In the jagged wounds left by the axe blade in the shadows, the dark gray flesh of Truth was being devoured inch by inch.

The diamond ring the size of a pigeon egg on its right ring finger scraped against the bloodstains as it devoured, and the once clear cut surface was now covered with a layer of murky black mucus.

Just three steps away in the corner, the remaining ashes-like shadows of the Confusing Truth were slowly creeping along the baseboard.

These escaping shadows failed to attract the slightest glance from the silhouette queen, who was focused on eating.

The diplomat sat with his back to the lavish feast, casting a somber shadow on the mottled wall.

From the moment the first axe fell, he maintained this posture, gazing into the void, his pupils filled with a silence that transcended fear.

Like an audience member who has already seen through the entire script, not even bothering to flinch at this bloody one-act play.

The swallowing sounds finally stopped.

The shadow that had been dismembered by the axe had been completely devoured.

The silhouette queen slowly licked her fingers, then turned her head with lingering interest, looking at the person who had always kept their back to her with her pupil-less eyes.

Not a single lamp was lit inside, but something thicker than darkness was seeping in from all directions.

The silhouette queen twisted her shadow, gently resting her head, which drooped like melted black wax, on the diplomat's shoulder, her voice like the scraping of a rusty blade against glass:
"Sir Diplomat...aren't you afraid?"

The diplomat's face was as calm as a frozen lake.

"You only hunt for the truth, don't you?"

A shrill laugh rang out, and with it, the condensed shadow slowly disappeared from the room.

The darkness was so thick it was almost tangible.

The diplomats remained seated.

He knew it hadn't left—the shadow was merely lurking in the space behind him, occupying the very spot where the truth of confusion once stood.

This realization should have required a long process of deduction and verification, but at this moment it arose in my consciousness as naturally as breathing.

A power beyond sight suddenly awakened within him.

He sat upright, staring straight ahead, yet it was as if he had opened a million eyes at the same time.

The tiny insects crawling in the corner of the ceiling, every tiny crack in the tiles underfoot, the newly built ant nest in the corner of the wall.

Those once obscure and difficult-to-understand chains of cause and effect, those fragments of truth buried by time, are now all clearly visible in his consciousness in their most primal form.

"Squeak..."

The diplomat pushed open the office door, and dusk was painting the corridor of the Black Pupil Pharmaceuticals office building with an orange-red glow.

This is the building near the green belt. On the right side, outside the semi-enclosed long platform, several late-blooming roses are reaching over the fence into the room, and their sweet fragrance wafts over.

The corridor was empty, but in his eyes, it was a bustling place, with footsteps echoing from different times of day—

A technician in a Zhongshan suit hurried past with blueprints in his arms; twenty years later, his granddaughter was discussing quarterly reports in high heels. The green plants on the windowsill had withered and flourished over the decades, but now they were simultaneously displaying the various stages of their growth.

Countless slices of time overlap at this moment, and countless people from the past are walking from the other end of the corridor. The place is bustling with activity. They are laughing, joking, and speaking the language of their respective eras.

Even the fragrance of flowers outside the corridor is the sum of tens of thousands of spring days.

This is what is meant by "omniscience".

It can see through all past sequences.

The diplomat, wearing a white coat, walked down the corridor. Some people coming out of the building saw him and greeted him.
"Good evening, Dr. Lin!"

The diplomat did not respond, because in that fleeting moment of distant perception, the name Lin Xin'an seemed to have been submerged into sand, becoming an empty echo.

He kept walking until a door creaked open, and a man wearing a top hat came out and called to him.

"Your Excellency, where are you headed?"

The diplomat turned around and saw the man, wearing a black overcoat, standing in the sunlit corridor. He coughed weakly, then smiled slightly:
"Congratulations on your promotion to number 1."

The diplomat said calmly:

"Your Excellency, schemer."

Xu Huan smiled and said:

“I don’t think it’s appropriate to call you Lin Xin’an now. After all, when you look back at your past, can you really identify with it?” The diplomat didn’t speak. His gaze drifted to the sky outside the corridor, where the sun had four parts, one of which was blood red.

It overlapped with the sun of this world, and no one knows when it merged into one.

Seeing that the diplomat remained silent, Xu Huan continued speaking:
“I know that in the moment I became omniscient, you saw my plans and the true nature of this world.”

"I hope you won't interfere."

The diplomat did not answer him, but continued to stare at the two suns outside that were about to overlap, saying:
"Have you truly seen the true nature of this world—Mr. Presence, number 4?"

Xu Huan laughed and said calmly:

"I know what you mean."

“I can’t see what you’re talking about clearly, but that doesn’t matter, does it? Because I won’t live to see that day.”

Xu Huan coughed uncomfortably, then continued to laugh:
"The sequence number 1 of the foreknowledge has already been born, and as for that distant future... foreknowledge is enough."

"What I'm fixated on is only the timeframe I can reach right now."

He raised his head, a kind of obsessive light flashing in his eyes:
"The chaos of this world, or rather—"

A bitter smile tugged at the corners of his lips:

"I'm just getting revenge."

He spread his hands, shrugged, and said helplessly:

"I hope you won't stop me from taking revenge."

The diplomat remained silent for a long time before finally nodding slightly.

"Life and death."

His voice was soft.

"It makes no difference to me."

Xu Huan stared at the familiar yet unfamiliar face, trying to find any trace of the person from the past.

"Omniscience has reached number 1, and it really can change a person's personality. You are completely different from before."

The diplomat offered no explanation.

He simply performed a standard bow, his gaze as calm as an ancient well.

"My deepest condolences are for your parents... and for all the suffering you have endured."

"May you fulfill your wish for revenge."

After saying that, he turned and left.

Xu Huan subconsciously lifted her foot to chase after him, the words still lingering on her lips—

"Buzz!"

A piercing alarm suddenly tore through the air.

"Sir! The television station's major player, Bright Light, is launching an attack in conjunction with the signal towers!"

The door to the next room was flung open, and the subordinate staggered in, sweat beading on his forehead. His voice was extremely low but trembling, like a string stretched to its limit:
"The television station activated numerous control towers in the southern region, attempting to create a psychological network to strangle us—"

Xu Huan's gaze remained fixed on the end of the corridor.

There, the figure going against the current had long since disappeared around the corner.

He withdrew his gaze, tapped his fingertips lightly on the seam of his trousers, and said calmly:
"Notify 'His Majesty' to prepare mental defenses."

……

Stepping out of the office building, the diplomat strolled to a deserted flowerbed.

As dusk settled, he was about to rest on a public bench and sort out his chaotic thoughts when he suddenly saw a blurry figure slowly approaching from not far away.

The figure exuded a strange sense of unreality, clearly not from the present moment, but rather a remnant of time projected from an earlier past.

The diplomat had assumed that the figure would pass him by like any other person from the past, eventually disappearing at the end of the timeline.

Unexpectedly, the person stopped in front of him and spoke in a cold voice:
Good evening, Omniscient One.

The diplomat slowly raised his head from the bench, and against the light, he saw the figure wearing a white hood.

The power of omniscience awakens, and the past floods into consciousness like a tide.

Without a second thought, a title naturally came to mind:
Good evening, Your Excellency.